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“I don’t know how you can even walk after that,” I laugh. “My legs are jello.”
Yakov pulls on a shirt and pads to the closet for pants. “I don’t have a choice. I have work to do today.”
“Again?” I don’t want to sound like I’m pouting, but the one thing that hasn’t changed over the last few days is that I still spend a lot of time alone during the day.
The garden has given me something to think about and I’ve barely made a dent in the stash of ebooks on my Kindle. I have things to do. It’s just that none of those things are nearly as fun as being around Yakov.
Yakov comes out of the closet with pants on. It feels like a crime to see him clothed now that I know exactly what is going on underneath.
“I’ll be back tonight.” He snags my calf and twists me to the edge of the bed. I yelp, but it doesn’t stop him. He presses a soothing palm over my still-pulsing center. “I’ll make it worth the wait.”
Two orgasms before eight in the morning and I could still go for a third. “You’re going to kill me at this rate.”
Amusement sparks in his eyes. “Never, solnyshka. I’ll take you to the edge, but you’ll survive. It’s the only way we can do it again.”
He leaves. I miss him before the door even clicks closed.
Things are magical… when Yakov is around.
I feel fulfilled and content… when Yakov is around.
It’s the moment he leaves that I realize how empty the rest of my life here is. I have an ache that hobbies and movies and days lounging by the pool can’t fill.
I need a friend.
Which is why after days of keeping the burner phone from Yakov’s office stashed in the bottom drawer of the dresser, I pull it out.
I meant what I said when I told him that I trusted him. I do.
I also meant it when I said that I didn’t need answers to all of my questions. I don’t.
But I do need Kayla.
I set the phone up with my debit card and tap in Kayla’s phone number. She made me memorize it years ago. “If you get kidnapped and don’t have your phone, you’ll need to be able to call me,” she said as she quizzed me over and over again on her number.
I never thought it would actually play out like that. I also never thought I’d fall for the man who kidnapped me. It goes to show that I don’t know a damn thing.
“Hello, Kayla Stevenson speaking,” she answers.
I smile at her “Professional Kayla” voice. “Hello, Miss Stevenson. This is Miss McCarthy calling to?—”
“Holy shit, Loon, I’ve been dying over here!” Kayla hisses into the phone. She’s whispering, so she must be at work. “Give me a second. Hold on. Don’t hang up.”
I hear static and muffled voices as Kayla talks to people in her office. Then her heels make their familiar click across the bathroom tiles and she’s back. “I have so much to tell you. Where have you been?”
In bed. With Yakov. Not experiencing Horny Stockholm syndrome, that’s for sure. Kayla won’t buy it, so I keep it generic. “Around.”
“You’re still at his house, right?” she asks. “You better be. If you escaped and didn’t immediately sprint your ass to my apartment, our friendship would be over.”
“I’m not trying to escape, Kayla. Yakov is keeping me safe.”
“Right, right,” she drawls. “But if you did escape…?”
“If I left, you would definitely be my first stop.” I roll my eyes, but can’t help but smile.
This is why I need to talk to Kayla. To remember what it’s like to be a person outside of this house.
I sit on the window seat overlooking the side of Yakov’s property. I’m far enough away from the door that no one passing in the hallway can see me. And as a bonus, I can see the driveway. I’ll know if Yakov’s car comes back.
